Titi’s Erotic Notes: The Bartender (18+)
Titi's Erotic Notes

Titi’s Erotic Notes: The Bartender (18+)

Titilayo Olurin

Raucous men with rumpled shirts, sleeves rolled lazily up to their elbows and loosened ties around their necks, sat on tall bar stools, loudly gulping down glasses of alcohol.

“More!” they shouted to the bartenders, as they emptied their glasses and placed them on the table.

The bartenders - about three or four of them - wasted no time in expertly mixing liquor to make cocktails before filling the glasses of their customers.

Wigs bobbed back and forth on the dance floor, as women danced wildly, wiggling their waists and shaking their buttocks to the music blaring from the club’s stereo speakers.

Their partners, mostly men, held their waists, clutched their hips, grabbed their breasts, or had their arms wrapped around them, moving their bodies in the most obscene of manners.

Naira Marley’s ‘Tesumole’ had started playing and the dancers were all but losing their minds now, singing along at the top of their lungs and dancing into a frenzied state.

I held on tightly to my purse, pushing through a throng of sweaty bodies on the dance floor and keeping my eye on the bar table.

“Ada!” I shouted, waving frantically as soon as I spotted my sister sitting where she said she would be.

She was the only woman among five or six men. One of the men – the one closest to her - had his hand in the small of her back while he whispered something in her ear. Or was he nibbling on it? Probably not, for she burst into laughter next and the sound of her loud, familiar snorting as she laughed reached me over the din.

“Ada!” I called again.

This time, she turned to look at me, still laughing. Her eyes were teary and she held a forefinger to each eye, an act that did little to hold the tears back or keep them from ruining her mascara.

“Hey, you! There you are!” she tapped the empty stool beside her, still laughing. “Come! Have a seat.”

She got up unsteadily, almost tipping her stool over. The man – the same one who had whispered into her ear – grabbed her hand to steady her.

If she noticed the help, she ignored it and said loudly to me, “Well, that took you long enough!”

“Sorry!” I said shortly with a sigh, not sure if she was loud because of the noise or because she had had one too many drinks.

“It’s okay, Babes,” she let her face break into a smile before pulling me into a tight embrace.

“How are you, Ada?” I asked, after the embrace as we took our seats.

My big sister had just lost her job and had texted to inform me, only after she told me to meet her here after work. I knew her plan was to drown her pain in alcohol tonight, as she was wont to whenever she was struggling with something. Still, I needed to be sure she was okay.

“So so!” she responded, grimacing.

The man next to her soon began whispering in her ear again and her snorting was louder this time.

“What would you have, Ma’am?” A bartender suddenly appeared before me, hovering with an empty glass in his hand, a thick napkin on his shoulder and a plastered smile on his face.

The club sure did know how to pick them. He was tall, at least a good 6 foot 3 inches, with eyes so beautiful I could cry and lean muscled arms. I did not fail to notice his pink lips, even with the blinding multi-coloured lights hanging over me.

I stared at the outline of his lean, muscled body through his shirt.

“Ma’am?” His voice was soothing. It was not necessarily deep. It was not soft either, just soothing.

I snapped out of it, embarrassed, hoping that he had not caught me staring. “Scotch. Dry, please.”

He placed the glass before me within seconds and was soon attending to another customer. I followed him with my eyes, watching his hard, masculine jawline twitch and his muscled arms move as he worked.

As if sensing my eyes on him, he turned and smiled, revealing perfect teeth. He approached me and gestured with his hand for me to move closer. I obeyed.

“There is a private room somewhere at the back. We could get to know each other,” he said.

I froze, not sure how to respond.

But he wasn’t done. “My shift ends in thirty. Meet me out back then,” he continued, his voice now laced with desire.

Tittering nervously, I said, “That obvious, huh?”

“Mmmh hmmm!” he nodded.

It was easy to locate the room, which was just next to the ladies. He was waiting, for he opened the door as soon as I approached it, with one hand still in mid-air, uncertain about knocking.

We did not speak and began tearing at each other’s clothes. His lips were soft yet masculine, full and passionate against mine as we kissed hungrily, making me feel something wet and gooey between my thighs.

“Wha … what’s … yo … your … name?” I asked, in between kisses.

“Fred,” he answered, his breath warm and fresh against my lips. “Yours?”

“Nwamaka,” I gasped as his hands moved to my naked breasts, cupping and kneading them, one after the other.

“Mmmh! Nice.” He was now pinching my hardened nipples, pinching them only the way an expert would.

I stifled a moan and threw my head back, as his lips moved to my breasts, teasing, tickling and sucking one nipple after the other.

Soon, his hands found my warmth between my thighs, stroking and poking till I let out a loud moan. He pushed me to the bed – the only piece of furniture in the room – and removed what was left of my clothing, letting his fingers linger on my skin as he slid the pink lace G-string down my thighs to my legs and to the floor.

He pulled my legs to the floor, making sure that I was lying on the edge of the bed, before parting my thighs as wide as they could possibly go and positioning himself between them as he knelt on the floor.

With his tongue, he devoured my wet p*ssy, tracing invisible lines and circles, licking my clit, making me squirm and whimper till I felt a tremor in my thighs, which made my legs shake uncontrollably.

When he was satisfied, Fred got up and joined me on the bed, where he began to kiss me. He followed a long trail from my lips down to my breasts to my navel then my thighs where he stopped.

He pulled away for a short moment, only long enough to undo his zipper and pull his big, black c*ck free. Then he guided the head of the c*ck towards my waiting c*nt, pushed it into me and filled me up with his entire length.

I gasped, rolling my eyes back in pleasure and urging him deeper inside me as I grabbed his butt cheeks.

He moved inside me, finding a rhythm and thrusting into me, going deeper and deeper, without restraint. I met his thrusts, matched his motion, followed his lead until we began moving to the same rhythm that beat faster with each thrust.

My warmth began to clutch his throbbing c*ck and I held myself from crying out in delight. I could feel myself ascending and so could he, I was sure.

He suddenly rolled on to his back, pulling me on top of him and watching me grind his c*ck slowly until we found our rhythm once again.

With his hands on my hips, he raised himself and pushed himself deeper inside me, giving me the final thrust that helped me reach my peak. He reached his peak just as soon too, filling me with his jizz.

I collapsed on top of him, trembling.

“That … that was good … so good,” I said, breathless.

He grinned, saying nothing.

“Amaka!” a voice outside the door was followed by a hesitant knock and another

“Shit! My sister!” I got up from the bed and started to pick my clothes littered on the floor quickly. I had completely forgotten about her.

“Wait!” Fred said, his hands now knotted behind his head in a relaxed manner. “Would your sister join us?”

Would she? I stood, thinking for a moment before reaching for the doorknob.

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